You infiltrate the air around us
With a smell so beautiful
It wanders a little ahead of you
To let us know
You’re here
You leave behind in breaths
A confusion of fragrance;
A mix of cardamom and incense;
A mingling of sacred ash and turmeric;
The death of neem flowers burnt;
The birth of ripening mangoes;
The burst from rain hitting scorched earth;
The mystery of the thaazham flower;
And the magic of roasted spices ground to bits…
What are you,
That so many things smell like you;
Of you?
It was a bad dream.
Disrupted stasis,
A whirlwind tousling hair;
And underneath a neon glare
She cast shadows around.
Yet they weren’t hers…
Then, the nooses slithered unto her,
Tying knots so intimate.
She prayed for power;
For deliverance.
And heeded, her prayers bestowed
Gargantuan scissors
In place of her feeble hands.
They ate away at the folds
Each knot followed,
Famishing her; satiating the
Hands so giant.
Lighter than ever, she felt
Lesser knots tying her down
To this earthly presence
Of undecided end.
To the remaining knots
She screamed,
‘You shall be undone too…
I shall taste freedom,
I shall die’
